


Somewhere South of Down

by AnnaTheHank



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale will get there, Crowley's good with kids, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Family, Family Fluff, It's a baby, Kid Fic, M/M, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2020-07-30 20:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20102926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTheHank/pseuds/AnnaTheHank
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are enjoying the retired life until they find a baby in their garden. By some miracle (or demonic work depending on who you ask) the baby just won't leave, despite their best efforts. Oh well, might as well adopt it.





	1. Beez? Beez!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Please just, take this self-indulgent family/kid fic and run. Before I hold you down and talk your ear off about how much I love kids and domestic fics. TAKE IT AND RUN

“That’s a baby,” Aziraphale said, after a slight pause in the conversation.

“Yeah,” Crowley said. “I know.”

They were standing by their kitchen table. A fertilizer sack lay open on it. Inside, the distinct noise of a baby gurgling. 

“Why is it in a sack?” Aziraphale asked, as if that was the weirdest thing about this situation. 

“It was out in the garden! What else was I supposed to put it in?”

Aziraphale pulled his attention to Crowley. “Well, you could have just picked it up and carried it.” Crowley gave him a look. “So...it just crawled into the garden?”

“No.” Crowley crossed his arms, leaning over so he could stare at the little mound of pink flesh sitting in his sack. “It, uh…”

“Yes?”

Crowley cleared his throat. The angel was going to think he was insane. He probably was. “It was...inside...one of the plants.”

Aziraphale’s mouth hung open. “Come again?”

Crowley groaned and rolled his eyes. “I went out to water the garden and there was this unusually large rosebud about to bloom. When I went over to it, it sprung open and that thing,” he pointed at the baby, “was in it!”

“Darling, that’s the plot to-”

“I know! But that’s what happened.” Crowley huffed, scowling a bit at the audacity of the sack.

Aziraphale sighed, tutted, and looked into the sack. “Well...what should we do with it?”

“How should I know?”

“Well, dear, you’ve always been so dear and good with children. I thought you might know something. You did raise Warlock after all.”

“Yeah, but that was different. We aren’t raising this kid.” He blinked, took a step back, and looked Aziraphale up and down. “Are we?”

“Of course not!” Aziraphale assured him. “But we can’t very well just put it back in the garden. We need to find proper accommodations.”

“Why don’t we just give it to Book Girl and Computer Geek? They like kids.”

“They have names, Darling.” Aziraphale shook his head, reaching into the sack and pulling the baby out. “And they’re quite busy enough with the triplets.”

Crowley shuddered. Raising one kid had been exhausting enough let alone three. The baby gurgled, Aziraphale bouncing it in his arms. Crowley’s baby talk was a little rusty, but it sounded something along the lines of, “you’re soft”. 

The sooner they got that thing out of the house the better.

“Well,” Crowley said. “We could always drop it off somewhere for adoption.”

“Oh, oh but, Crowley.” Aziraphale held the baby close to his chest, eyes wide with worry. “You know as well as I do that there are awfully bad people out there! We surely can’t just hand her over to strangers.”

“Her?” Crowley asked. “Since when did it become a her?”

“Crowley.”

“Look, we can just, make sure she ends up somewhere all right. Somewhere safe and good.”

Aziraphale looked down at the baby in his arms, face a little conflicted. ‘Don’t go getting any bright ideas there, angel,’ Crowley thought.

“Very well,” Aziraphale said, walking to the door. “I don’t suppose the Queen is looking to adopt do you think?”

-

They dropped the baby off at the doorstep of the nearest child protection services building. After a twenty-minute argument as to why they should not leave it at a church, that is. A quick miracle as they sat in their car and the secretary of the building thought ‘Oh, I think I’ll have a quick look outside and Oh my! There’s a baby. Better take it in.’

They nodded at each other and Crowley drove away. As he did, they both made a miracle to ensure that the child would end up in a safe and loving home, with parents that would raise them well and care for them. They would later come to blame their joint efforts on this as the cause of certain unlikely events, as they had both agreed that Aziraphale would handle the miracle on this one. 

No matter how it happened, it did happen. And it happened like this.

They woke up the next day quite happily content with a job well done. Crowley rolled over and kissed Aziraphale on the cheek. He suggested they stay in bed all day. Aziraphale reminded him the plants would need watering. Crowley assured him it would rain that afternoon. A baby gurgled, and it sounded an awful lot like, “Get a room”.

They both turned to the corner of the room. The baby from the day before was sitting in the corner, staring at them with big, round, terrifying blue eyes. Crowley hadn’t noticed the little crop of red on its head but there it was. 

“Is that…?” Aziraphale sat up, staring at the baby. 

“Sure as hell looks like it,” Crowley said, sitting up as well.

The baby reached out to them, chubby little hands opening and closing. They babbled a bit. It said, “Pick me up, I’m cold.”

Crowley sneered. He most certainly was not going to pick whatever that was up. But it was also just a defenseless baby (at least on the surface) and he couldn’t very well just leave it there. “It wants you to hold it,” he told Aziraphale. 

“Oh?” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows at Crowley. “Oh, yes, I forgot you spoke baby.” He climbed out of the bed, suddenly dressed appropriately, and walked to the corner. He bent over, gathering the baby into his arms and smiling at it. “Aren’t you just the dearest thing?”

Crowley scrambled out of bed, only bothering to put on a robe. “Aziraphale! That thing isn’t dear! It’s demonic!”

Aziraphale snuggled the baby closer, giving Crowley a look. “You’d think you’d like something like that.”

Crowley tossed his arms out to the side. “We dropped it off yesterday and today it’s magically in our bedroom! That’s demonic.”

“Or angelic,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley squinted his eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, dear, I did miracle them into a safe and loving home.” He rose his eyebrows, implying what he was implying.

“Oh no.” Crowley pointed a finger at him, shaking his head. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’m just saying,” Aziraphale said. “We wanted her to be in a good home and well, here she is. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“It can and it must be! Aziraphale,” he stepped closer, hands grabbing the angel’s arms, “we cannot be parents. We don’t know the first thing about raising a child!”

“Did you learn nothing from your time with Warlock?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley frowned. “That’s different. That was raising someone else's kid, following their rules and guidelines, trying to sway them towards evil. This would be ours! We’d have to figure that all out alone.”

Aziraphale bounced the baby a bit, smiling at the happy gurgles it made. (she kept saying things like “wee, this is fun, do it more”). “Well, dear, we wouldn’t be alone. Anathema and Newton could help us. And there are so many books on parenting out there I could spend weeks reading up on it.”

“You can’t take a baby to a theater,” Crowley said, stepping back. He was grasping at straws now. “They don’t like fancy food! You’d have to feed them chicken nuggets and be okay with that!”

“We can always get a babysitter,” Aziraphale said. He shifted the baby to one hip, giving Crowley a hard stare. “Tell me what’s really worrying you.”

“It’s a baby!” Crowley said. He gestured to the tot on Aziraphale’s hip, as if he couldn't see her. 

“You like children,” Aziraphale reminded him. “You always have. Why is this one so different?”

“I don’t like kids,” Crowley said, crossing his arms, shaking his head, and turning away. “Never have. You’re dumb.”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale stepped up to him. He placed a hand on his back. “Please tell me what’s wrong?”

Crowley grumble. “It’s going to grow up,” he said, looking over at them. “She’s going to...She’ll die.” 

Aziraphale frowned, looking down at the small, young thing in his arms. “If that happens it won’t be for quite some time.”

“If?”

“Well, I don’t know. She did come from a plant? We don't know if she’s entirely mortal or not.”

Crowley sighed, groaning a bit. How the hell was he supposed to explain this?

“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s hand rubbed soft circles on his back. “I know it hurt you to have to leave Warlock,” he whispered. “You loved him very dearly. But that’s what’s so wonderful about this. You wouldn’t ever have to leave.”

“But she might,” Crowley croaked out. He turned and leaned his head against Aziraphale's shoulder.

Aziraphale’s hand went from his back to his head, ruffling his hair a bit. “We aren’t sure about that. And we can find out. Together. The three of us.”

Crowley gathered his strength up in a big breath and straightened up, giving the baby a hard stare. 

“Here.” Aziraphale practically shoved her into Crowley’s arms.

Crowley looked into the baby’s eyes and remembered he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He braced himself, prepared for the full front of a hysteric cry as the baby took in the sight of him. Instead, the baby laughed and reached up, gurgling. He must have heard it wrong but it sounded like she said, “Pretty!”

Crowley coughed away the coo that formed in the back of his throat. “Fine. She can stay, I guess. But I’ll have you know that babies really cramp my style.”

Aziraphale laughed at him. “I’m sure they do darling. Now, she needs a name.”

Crowley pursed his lips, holding her up. He said the very first name that came to mind. “Beelzebub.” Then he chuckled. Imagine.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said. “Oh, I do quite like the sound of that.”

Crowley pulled the baby back, holding her to one hip. “You can’t be serious?”

“Why not? It has a lovely ring to it. You know, I’ve always thought it was an awfully clever, little name.”

“It’s the name of the prince of hell,” Crowley said, convinced that Aziraphale was dragging this whole joke out much too long.

“It was once the name of an angel,” Aziraphale said with his little ha-ha-I’ve-won face. He leaned over, smiling at the baby and tickling her a little. “How would you like that, hm? Little Beelzebub?’

The baby laughed, squirming at Azirapahle’s tickles and squealing in delight.

“See?” Aziraphale said. “She likes it.”

“She’s only laughing cause you’re tickling her,” Crowley said. He held the baby up, squinting at it. “You don’t really like that name. C’mon.”

The baby gargled. Now, Crowley had learned a slightly different dialect of baby talk, but yeah, she had said Beelzebub. Crowley sighed, holding the baby close again. “Fine. Beelzebub it is.”

Aziraphale smiled, sighing softly as he looked at the two of them, his eyes filled with love.

“What’s that look for?” Crowley asked.

“Oh, I just love you is all.” Aziraphale leaned up, placing a kiss to Crowley’s cheek. 

Beelzebub blabbered, “That’s adorable.”

“Naptime already?” Crowley asked. He fought the blush forming on his cheeks and carried Beelzebub out of the room, to the little nursery that had, miraculously, appeared across the hall from their room. 

Aziraphale chuckled, smiling as he watched them go. As soon as Crowley was out of view he bent over, letting out the intense breath he had been holding. Crowley was right. They had no idea what the hell they were doing? What was he thinking? 

He hurried across the hall. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change their minds after all. He stopped dead in his tracks, holding onto the door frame for support. Crowley was holding Beelzebub close to his chest, humming softly as he rubbed her back. Her eyes were closing slowly and he bounced her up and down softly. 

Aziraphale’s mouth fell open slightly. Due to the constraints of their jobs, he had never really seen Crowley interacting with Warlock, had only heard the stories he told him. He was awfully soft and tender, his eyes partially closed himself. And he looked so real in that moment. He wasn’t trying to put on a front, wasn’t trying to be cool or in control. It was a Crowley that Aziraphale only got to see at night, when they were alone and Crowley was too tired to try. It was the real Crowley, and Aziraphale's heart swelled at the image, his eyes watering up a bit. 

Beelzebub fell asleep and Crowley placed her in the crib, leaning over and kissing her forehead. Aziraphale let out a soft little cry.

Crowley shot up, turning to face him with a wide and shocked face. “A-Aziraphale. How long have you been standing there?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat, blinking his tears away. “Just got here,” he said.

Crowley seemed to relax. “Good. Well, she’s asleep now. So we can finally get some privacy.”

Aziraphale chuckled, grabbing Crowley’s hand and leading him back to their bedroom. He noted the baby monitor that was sitting on the bedside table. The old demon really had thought of everything. He smiled and the two got themselves back under the covers to resume their lazy late-morning.

“What if we aren’t good parents?” Crowley asked, snuggling close to Aziraphale. 

“Well, we miracled her here,” Aziraphale said. “So we simply have to be.”

Crowley nodded. “That makes sense.” He closed his eyes and held on to the hope that Aziraphale had given him. Maybe this time he could keep her. Maybe this time, it would all work out.


	2. Feeding Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Crowley and his two children :D

Here’s the thing about babies. They mainly cry because the humans around them don’t understand what they’re saying so they need some way to get their attention. But little Beez (they had agreed later that morning that Beelzebub was too long to say every time and really, most people had nicknames didn’t they?) was very aware of the fact that Crowley could understand her. So when she woke up just after noon, she didn’t cry or scream. She just babbled into the baby monitor, saying, “Papa, I’m up.”

Crowley sat up from the soft slumber he had fallen back into. Aziraphale was putting his book down and picking up the monitor, as if thinking he misheard something.

“Who’s supposed to be Papa?” Crowley asked, closing his eyes again. 

“Well, I guess either of us could be.”

Crowley sighed. “She’s probably hungry.”

“I’ll go prepare something.” Aziraphale slid out of bed and Crowley frowned. 

“Remember,” he called after him, “Babies don’t eat real food.”

“I know, darling!”

Crowley groaned and rolled his own way out of bed. He put on real clothes and shuffled over to the nursery. Beez was sitting up in the crib. She made a happy little gurgle when he walked in. Looks like Crowley was supposed to be Papa.

“Alright, you little demon,” Crowley said. He picked her up and was very thankful for his demonic powers as he didn’t need to actually change her diaper by hand.

Beez babbled, “That was weird.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it kid.” Crowley winked at her and carried her downstairs. 

He stepped into the kitchen and shook his head. There was a highchair set up by the table. It wasn’t so much the tartan seat covering that made him shake his head as it was the little tablecloth that Aziraphale was setting on it.

“A tablecloth?” Crowley asked, sitting Beez into the seat. “Really?”

“What? No reason not to be a little fancy.” Aziraphale scooped out some baby food into a little bowl and placed it before Beez, setting a little spoon down next to it. 

Crowley knelt down next to Beez, smirking as Aziraphale turned to clean up the counter. Beez looked at him.

“You know,” Crowley whispered. “You should spill your food on the tablecloth.”

Beez blinked her big, blue eyes at him. “But Dada made it,” she gurgled.

“It’s a tablecloth,” Crowley told her. “It’s meant to get dirty. That’s the whole point.”

Beez stared at him for a moment then looked down at her food. She giggled and slammed her hand down on the edge of the bowl, sending the food toppling over to the cloth. She laughed, clapping her hands together. 

Aziraphale sighed, looking over at the mess. “What did you do?” he asked Crowley.

“I didn’t do anything,” Crowley said, standing up. “She’s a baby, messes are kind of their thing.”

“Oh, I’m sure you had nothing to do with it.” Aziraphale gave him a look and snapped his fingers, the cloth popping clean and the bowl refilling with food. 

Beez made a little surprised sound and then slapped the bowl again. She laughed and looked to Aziraphale expectantly. Crowley chuckled, rustling the tuft of hair on her head. “Good girl.”

Aziraphale frowned. “I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

Crowley grinned at him. “Ecstatic.”

Aziraphale took a controlled breath and cleaned the mess again, bending over before the chair. “Now,” he told Beez. “No more spilling, okay?” Beez stared at him. Looked him right in the eyes. Then she slapped at the bowl a third time, a little bit of the food splattering onto Aziraphale’s face.

Crowley had to bite his lip to stop from laughing. Beez did laugh, bouncing in her seat a bit and clapping her hands.

Aziraphale glared at Crowley. “Any help from the baby whisperer?”

Crowley smiled at him. “All you had to do was ask.” He stepped to the side of the chair, picking up the bowl and salvaging what food he could. “Never trust a baby with food.” 

Crowley hooked his foot around the nearest chair, dragging it over so he could sit down. He scooped up a little spoon full and held it up to Beez’s mouth. Beez leaned forward and ate it, gurgling happily as she pulled away. She mashed the food around a bit and swallowed, holding her mouth open for more.

Crowley smiled and gave her another spoonful. Aziraphale hummed, watching him feed her. “May I try?”

Crowley glanced up at him. “Of course.” 

He handed the bowl and spoon to Aziraphale, Beez’s head turning with it, open mouth following the spoon. Aziraphale gathered a bit onto the spoon and placed it in her mouth, gasping a bit as she closed her mouth around it.

Crowley smiled at him. That was one of the things he loved about babies, they always saw the world through new eyes, experiencing everything for the first time. Aziraphale was a lot like that, too. And he’d been around for 6,000 years. But every time he ate sushi or cake it was as if he was tasting it for the first time. Every time he read a book he knew forward and backward he gasped and ah’d at every surprise as if he didn’t see it coming. Every time he heard a song he's listened to over and over, he'd still marvel and the way it moved. It was a beautiful innocence.

“Well,” Aziraphale said, straightening up. “All done. How about that?” He took the bowl and spoon away, taking the tablecloth, suddenly clean again, with him as well.

Crowley grinned and picked Beez up. “Well, how did you like your first meal, hm?”

Beez cooed. “Dada’s good.”

Crowley smiled at Aziraphale over his shoulder. “Yeah. He’s alright.”


	3. Bees/z in the garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I toyed around with the idea of making Beez just a normal human but then I thought, really, where's the fun in that?

“Beez’s in the garden, darling,” Aziraphale said. He was standing in the kitchen, staring out the window as he stirred some honey into his tea.

“That’s good, angel,” Crowley said. He was reading the paper. Not that he normally ever read the paper. But he figured that was the kind of things that dads did and he did like the comics. “Bees are good.”

“No, dear. Beelzebub is in the garden.”

Crowley put the paper down and rushed over, half expecting the prince of hell to be in their garden ready to attack. But it wasn’t the prince of hell. It was their daughter, who had been sleeping in her crib not but five minutes ago when he had checked on her.

“How did she get out there?” Aziraphale asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t put her there.”

Beez was sitting by the rose bushes, giggling and reaching out to them. Crowley grumbled, reaching for the back door. “Better not be another one out there.”

It was a lovely spring afternoon, and actual bees were buzzing about, hanging around on the flowers that Crowley had planted. A particularly fat little bumble was sitting on the petals of a rose, Beez laughing as she watched it stumble around. 

“Little drunk on nectar there, eh little guy?” Crowley said. He crouched down next to Beez, watching with her.

“He’s pretty,” Beez babbled, pointing at the bee.

“Yeah. They’re pretty cool, huh?”

Beez nodded. “I wanna keep him.”

“Ah, well, we can’t do that.” Crowley sat down and pulled Beez onto his lap, pointing at the other bees in the area. “See that’s his family. And they have to work together to do a very important job.”

Beez placed her hand on Crowley’s nose. “What job, Papa?”

“You see, these little guys gather nectar from the flowers and use it to make honey. And while they’re doing that they also spread the pollen around, so that flowers like this can grow all over, not just in our garden.”

Beez rested her head against Crowley’s chest and looked out across the street at the small meadow. “They made all that?”

“Uh, yeah,” Crowley said, gently rubbing her head. “Mostly anyway. Lot’s of other bugs do that too, but bees are where it’s at.”

Beez blinked her eyes. “Pretty flowers.”

Crowley smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Alright, now let’s get you back inside, hm?” Beez nodded and Crowley got up, carrying her back to the door. “Oh, and uh, how’d you get out here in the first place.”

“Wanted to see the flowers.”

“Right.”

Crowley carried Beez to the little playpen, under the wary eye of Aziraphale. He placed her down and rustled her hair before turning back to the kitchen.

“Well?” Aziraphale asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said with a shrug. “She was just admiring the bees.”

“Well...how did she get out there?”

Another shrug. “Don’t know.”

Aziraphale gave an exasperated sigh. “Honestly, you’re supposed to be able to communicate with her.”

Crowley tilted his head at him. “She doesn’t know either.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to respond when he was cut off by the loud buzzing coming from the living room. They both raced in to find a room filled with about a dozen bees and bouquets of flowers. 

Beez was in her crib, bouncing as she sat and clapping her hands. Aziraphale snapped his fingers and the bees and flowers were gone. Beez stared at the empty space for a moment and then her face contorted, tears streaming down her face as she screeched.

Crowley gave Aziraphale a look, both of them covering their ears. 

“Don’t look at me,” Aziraphale said. “I’m not going to put them back!”

Crowley rolled his eyes and reached into the pen, pulling Beez up. She kept crying and blubbering about the pretty bees. Crowley reached behind his back and pulled out a small bee stuffed animal, holding it before her.

“Here,” he said, his voice soft and calm. “Why don’t you play with this bee instead?”

The cries turned to heavy breathing as Beez studied the toy.

“See, it even makes a noise when you squeeze it.” Crowley gave it a squeeze, shaking it before her as it made a quiet buzzing noise. 

Beez laughed, her tears drying and she snatched it out of his hand, hugging it tight and giggling as he buzzed.

“There,” Crowley said. He wiped her face clean and set her back in the pen. “Crisis solved.”

“No,” Aziraphale said. “Crisis very much still here!”

“What are you on about?”

Aziraphale held his hand out to Beez, his eyes wide. “Did you not see what she just did? First she gets herself into the garden and now...and now this?”

Crowley shrugged. “I told you she was demonic.”

“How can you be so calm about this?”

Crowley walked over to him, grabbing his arms. “There’s nothing we can do to change it. Might as well roll with it.”

“You’re right,” Aziraphale said, placing his own hands on Crowley’s arms. “We have to miracle proof the house.”

“Huh?”

“We put up a barrier that’ll stop her from using any powers, regardless of where they’re coming from.”

“So you want her to grow up not knowing she’s special and then find out one day on her own and be mad at us?”

“Not forever! Just until she’s old enough to control her urges.”

Crowley looked to the side, remembering his own lack of impulse control. “So...never?”

Aziraphale huffed, pulling back and crossing his arms. “Well, what would you suggest?”

Crowley moved to stand next to him, wrapping an arm around the angel’s shoulders, leaning in. “I say it’s just like any other skill development. Let her experiment with it and learn. We can always undo anything she does.”

“She could put herself in serious harm, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s face was riddled with worry as he looked at him.

Crowley tried to give him a reassuring smile. “She’s got us for parents. How much harm could she seriously get into?”

Don’t answer that.


	4. Story Time

Aziraphale had wanted to put Beez to bed. Crowley had reminded him that he didn’t need to ask permission to put his own daughter to bed, and, blushing a bit, Aziraphale had taken her from Crowley’s arms and carried her up to her room. That was thirty minutes ago.

Crowley turned off the T.V. and wandered upstairs to check on them. He had half expected to find Aziraphale asleep in the rocking chair, as he had fallen asleep there many times when he read Beez to sleep, and had made a habit of it when he was with Warlock. 

He wasn’t expecting it, but he wasn’t entirely surprised to walk in to the scene of Aziraphale reading 'The Iliad' to Beez, who was sitting on his lap, eyes wide as she stared at him.

“Are you reading Homer to a baby?” Crowley asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. 

Aziraphale looked up at him. Beez’s eyes remained on the book. “It’s never too early to start appreciating literature,” he said, a smile on his face.

Crowley rolled his eyes and walked over. “You can’t read that to a baby,” he said. “She’ll never sleep.” He took the book from Aziraphale’s hand, earning him a glare. “Here, try this.” He popped the inappropriate book back to the shelf downstairs and pulled out a proper children’s book, handing it over. 

“Goodnight Moon?” Aziraphale asked, taking the book from him with a grimace. “Really, my dear. This isn’t exactly-”

“Just read it,” Crowley said. He sat down next to the chair resting an arm against the side and smiling at Beez. 

Aziraphale sighed and started to read, rolling his eyes at the little rhymes. When he got to the line, “And a quiet old lady who was whispering “hush”,” Crowley put a finger to his lips and mimicked the noise, winking at Beez. She giggled and laid her head against Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale finished reading and closed the book. “Fine literature indeed,” he mumbled.

“Shh,” Crowley said. He nodded at Beez. Her eyes were closed and she breathed deeply.

“Oh,” Aziraphale whispered. “She’s asleep.” Crowley nodded. “I put her to sleep.” Aziraphale’s smile was wide and his eyes gleamed as he looked at Crowley.

Crowley couldn’t help but smile back. “You sure did.”

Aziraphale got up, being careful not to disturb Beez too much. He laid her down in her crib and pulled the little blanket over her, placing her bee plushie next to her. 

Crowley got up and placed a hand on Aziraphale’s back, looking down at their daughter.

“Can you believe it?” Aziraphale asked. “We’re fathers.”

“Yeah.” Crowley leaned over and kissed Aziraphale’s cheek. “Who’d of thunk, huh?”

Aziraphale turned around and kissed him back. “Thank you for the help, darling.”

“Anytime, angel.”

-

Aziraphale insisted on putting Beez to bed again. Crowley handed her over and then followed immediately, making sure that he wasn’t reading her more old poetry about war or anything. 

Aziraphale sat down, bouncing Beez on his knee a bit before pulling out the book. Crowley glanced at the title and barged it, pulling the book from Aziraphale’s hand.

“Crowley! What are you doing?”

“What are _you_ doing?” Crowley asked. “You can’t read something like this to a child!”

Aziraphale smiled. “It’s referring to a rooster, my dear.”

Crowley studied the cover of the book, realizing it was probably harmless. But still. “You still can’t read it to her,” he said, popping the book not just downstairs, but out of existence altogether. 

Aziraphale huffed, rubbing Beez’s back. “Well, I’m certainly not going to read her one of the ridiculous little books you have.”

“Ridiculous?”

“She’s very intelligent. She needs literature that has depth to it.”

Crowley sighed and placed his hands on his hips. There was no point arguing with Aziraphale. “Fine. Here.” He handed Aziraphale a book and settled back down on the floor.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, gleaming at the cover. “A wonderful suggestion, my dear. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe! Why didn’t I think of that.”

“Yep.” 

Crowley leaned his head against the arm of the rocking chair and closed his eyes as Aziraphale started to read. Warlock had loved those books. Crowley had read all of them to him at least four times. When Warlock was too old for a nanny, she had left him a very special collection of them, with notes and words of affirmation on every page. As his tutor, Crowley had caught Warlock reading the books in between his studies. 

The words sounded different coming from Aziraphale’s mouth, and they lulled Crowley to a sense of security. He didn’t even realize he was falling asleep until Aziraphale was waking him up.

“Crowley, dear,” Aziraphale whispered, his hand running through Crowley’s hair.

Crowley sat up, blinking at the realization of what had happened. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

Aziraphale smiled at him and helped him to his feet, walking him over to their room. “You must be very tired.”

Crowley nodded and took off his clothes, crawling into bed. Aziraphale settled in next to him, kissing him gently on the forehead before turning on his little light and picking up one of the books off the pile next to the bed.

Crowley snuggled closer, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s waist. “Will you read to me?”

“Of course.” Aziraphale cleared his throat a bit and started to read out loud. Crowley closed his eyes, letting Aziraphale’s voice wash over him and put him back into a peaceful slumber. 

Every night that Crowley chose to sleep after that one, Aziraphale would read out to him without prompting. And Crowley would cuddle closer, wondering why he had never thought to ask this of Aziraphale before.


	5. The Return of Warlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has it really been 2 months since I updated this?  
Please forgive me for my sin

Aziraphale wandered into the kitchen, an old photograph in his hand, smiling at it fondly. Crowley looked up at him, taking his eyes off Beez for a moment. Terrible idea, he realized a half-second later, as Beez tipped the bowl over, splattering applesauce on Crowley’s face. 

Aziraphale chuckled at him. “That’s what you get for teaching her to do that,” he said. 

Crowley grabbed a napkin off the table and wiped his chin off. Beez laughed and clapped her hands. He gave her a hard look and turned the bowl back over, food magically back in it. 

“What ya got there, angel?” Crowley asked, keeping his attention on Beez. 

“An old photograph.” Aziraphale sat down at the table and Crowley resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Of?”

“Do you remember that one time Warlock wanted to catch fireflies? But he was afraid to be outside in the dark? So you went with him and the two of you ran around the yard catching a full jar?”

“Uh, no.”

“Really? It was such a lovely memory. Here, I took a picture.” Aziraphale held the photo out to him.

Crowley scooped the excess applesauce off Beez’s face. “I believe you. Why did you take a picture of that anyway?”

Aziraphale placed the photo down on the table. “I thought it was rather cute. You looked like you were having such a fun time.”

Crowley smirked and stood up, taking the empty bowl to the sink. “Still thought it was cute when I got him to shake the bottle all up.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Well, up until that point.”

Beez leaned forward and reached her hands out towards the picture. Aziraphale scooted his chair over, holding the photo up so Beez could see it. “Doesn’t he look like he’s having fun, Beez?”

Beez gurgled. “Pretty, Papa.”

“Yes, I know, I’m gorgeous.” Crowley was leaning against the counter, arms folded as he watched them. 

Beez pointed to Warlock. “Who?”

Aziraphale may not have been able to understand her, but he could infer a good deal. “That’s Warlock,” he announced. “Your Papa and I took care of him when he was younger.”

Beez’s eyes went wide. She rubbed her fingers over the picture. A soft mumble of nonsense. “Brother?”

“Ah, no.” Crowley said. 

“What did she say?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley shook his head. “Nothing.”

Beez laughed and clapped her hands, bouncing in her high-chair. “Brother,” she babbled confidently.

There was a crack of static electricity. The hair on the backs of their necks stood on end. There was a presence in the room that had not been there before.

“What the-” Warlock stood in the center of the kitchen. He was older, of course. It had been five years since they saw him. He was wearing some pompous prep-school uniform, his hair dark and long, one skull earring in his left ear.

Crowley stood up straight. They made eye contact. Warlock’s eyebrows furrowed, a hint of recognition behind his eyes. Before he could say or do anything Crowley snapped his fingers, sending him right back to class.

Beez cried out angrily at him, pounding her hands against the table of her chair. 

“What was that?” Aziraphale asked. 

“You were right,” Crowley said. “We’re putting up a block.”

“Crowley-”

“Brother!” Beez demanded. She slammed her hands again and following another crack of static, Warlock was back.

“What is going-”

Another snap and he was gone. 

Beez cried out again and stared at him, face red, tears in her eyes. He glared back, daring her to just try. She did. And it worked. He was back.

Crowley went to snap but Aziraphale was up, grabbing his wrist. “That’s enough!”

Warlock was stumbling a bit, shaking his head, trying to get his mind around the multitude of space hoping he had just done.

Aziraphale gave Crowley a hard look, daring him to just try again. He walked over to Warlock and smiled down at him. (Although, he had gotten quite tall, and it wasn’t a long look down). “How are you feeling?”

“Sick,” Warlock said. “The decor in here is disgusting.”

Crowley scoffed, biting back a chuckle. Aziraphale tried not to look offended. 

“I’m sure you have some questions,” he said. Crowley could see him getting ready, a quick little memory wipe would take care of this. 

“Yeah. What took you so long?”

Aziraphale’s body deflated, no longer tense and ready to jump into action. “I’m sorry?”

Warlock looked him up and down. “And where’s the ridiculous disguise?”

“I..I’m sorry. What are you talking about?”

Crowley had pushed away from the counter, was walking around behind Aziraphale in a half circle, squinting as he studied the situation. 

Warlock shrugged. “I dunno. Just thought it was weird you guys fucked off after I turned eleven.”

Beez gasped. “Bad word,” she babbled. 

Warlock leaned to the side, catching sight of the baby. “You guys had another one?”

“A-another one?” Aziraphale’s fingers fidgeted nervously. 

Warlock rolled his eyes. Beez reached out to him and he walked over, Crowley and Aziraphale watching him with held breath. He picked her up and she giggled, curling into his hold. “You can stop pretending, I know your my real parents.”

The two of them both startled. Crowley stuttered, trying to find any words. Aziraphale could only find one.

“What?”

“Look, it’s cool, I get it.” Warlock bounced Beez up and down, earning him some smiles and giggles. “You were young, in no position to raise a kid. You gave me up. It’s fine. I’m over it.”

“A-I-we- That’s not-It’s-your,” Crowley still couldn’t form any coherent thoughts. 

“Why would you think we were your parents?” Aziraphale asked. 

Warlock shrugged. “I mean, it’s kind of obvious. What other reason would you have to make such obviously fake covers to see me?”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. It was easier than the truth. Better than the truth.

“I do have one question, though. If you can do actual magic, like that, why would you put on that shit magic show?”

Crowley laughed. Aziraphale frowned. “I’m going to have to ask you to watch your language, young man.”

Warlock rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Where’s my room?”

“I’m sorry?”

“That’s why you brought me here, right? To live with you?” He shrugged. “So where am I staying?”

“Oh no,” Aziraphale said. “I think you have the wrong idea. This was just an...unfortunate mishap.”

Warlock frowned. “Oh.”

Beez looked up at him, also frowning. “Brother stay,” he gurgled softly. 

“Sorry kid.” Crowley finally coming to his senses. He walked over, avoiding looking at Warlock, and took her from him. “Brother’s gotta go home.”

Warlock crossed his arms and scowled. For a moment, Aziraphale figured he really could be Crowley’s son, the way he mimicked his exact sour mood. “Fine. Just don’t abandon this one when you have a new one.”

Okay. That hurt.

“My dear boy, we aren’t abandoning you,” Aziraphale said.

“Whatever. Can I just go back to class now?”

“Sure,” Crowley said. Aziraphale looked at him like he was crazy. Surely he was. He wouldn’t just send Warlock away feeling so down. “Just don’t get comfortable. You won’t be there long.”

“Darling, what are you going on about?”

“Oh. Nothing. See ya later, kid.” He snapped his fingers and Warlock was gone. Beez’s lips quivered and she sniffled, but she didn’t try to bring him back.

“Crowley! What was that? Couldn’t you see he was upset? I know you closed yourself off from that time to protect yourself but you really can’t be so cruel!”

“You think I’m cruel?” Crowley adjusted his hold on Beez, shaking his head. “I’m shocked. Astonished. Hurt.”

Aziraphale squinted at him and followed him into the living room. “What are you plotting?”

Crowley set Beez down in her playpen. “I’m not plotting anything, clearly. I’m too cruel for that.”

Aziraphale huffed. “Crowley.”

Crowley smirked at him. “Haven’t you heard? It’s all really rather last minute but there just has to be an American diplomat in town. It’s all really rather serious.”

Aziraphale’s stare turned into a soft smile. He shook his head. “You...wily serpent, you.”

Crowley smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “From godfathers to fathers in the blink of an eye. How about that?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Still think it’s a good idea to not put a block on her?”

“Ah, it all turned out alright in the end.”

Aziraphale shook his head and looked over at Beez. “What will we do with him, hm?”

Beez reached out, and he garbled. “Love him.” Aziraphale agreed entirely.


	6. Babies First Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which the baby is Warlock and I love him

“I’m here,” Warlock announced, dropping his bag by the door as he closed it. Usually, Crowley and Aziraphale were in the living room. Either relaxing with some t.v. and books or playing with Beez. But they weren’t that day.

“Hello?” Warlock called as he wandered into the kitchen. “Your other child you abandoned is here.”

He spotted Crowley outside in the garden and went out to him. “What are you doing?”

Crowley was tying some kind of wire around the gate that led out to the field behind their house. He pulled it tight and sighed, his body relaxing. “I’m riggin' up the fence,” he said. 

Warlock hopped up onto said fence, sitting on the edge and swinging his legs a bit. “Rigging it for what?”

“Tomorrow,” Crowley said, as if that was a satisfactory answer. He unrolled the wire and led it over to a little generator. “You might wanna get down,” he said.

Warlock hopped back down and watched as Crowley attached the wire to the generator and flipped on the switch. There was a bit of a buzzing sound and Warlock looked down at the fence, knowing that the wires were now coursing with electricity. 

“Where’s Aziraphale and Beez?” Warlock asked, scanning over the garden. It certainly wasn’t safe for Beez to be near, and he suspected it wasn’t for Aziraphale either. 

“Out for a stroll,” Crowley said. “Aziraphale thinks the fresh air and change of scenery will be good for her health or something.”

Warlock nodded. “Does this mean I don’t have to do my homework?” He gave Crowley a hopeful look.

Crowley gave him an unamused one back. “Yeah you can not do your homework. But you’re gonna have to deal with Aziraphale when he finds out.”

Warlock raised his eyebrows. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“You want me to lie? To my husband?”

Warlock shrugged and nodded a bit.

“Yeah, okay.”

Warlock smiled and followed Crowley back inside. He sat at the table as Crowley started to wash his hands. He tapped his finger against the wood. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Crowley shrugged and dried his hands on a towel. “Shoot.”

“If you and Aziraphale can do magic, and Beelzebub can do magic, how come I can’t?”

Crowley blinked at him. “Uh. That is an excellent question. For Aziraphale.” He not-ran into the living room. 

Warlock huffed and followed him. He didn’t get time to pester Crowley with more questioning as Aziraphale was walking through the front door, a smiling and clapping Beez in his arms.

“Hello, love,” Aziraphale said. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to Crowley’s cheek. “And hello, Warlock,” he continued, ruffling a hand over Warlock’s hair. Warlock swatted him away, smoothing his hair back down. “How was school?”

“How come I can’t do magic?” Warlock asked. 

Aziraphale ignored his question with a question of his own. “Are you excited for tomorrow?”

Warlock sighed. He had gotten pretty used to them not answering his questions. Still, better than his other house, where no one even talked to him. He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess.”

“You guess?” Aziraphale placed Beez in her play pen and slipped off her jacket. “But it’s such a fun and exciting time. Everyone gets to dress up and have fun. Not to mention all of the candy.” Aziraphale smiled at him.

Warlock shrugged again. “I dunno.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, who offered a frown and head shake as an answer. The Dowlings didn’t really have time for Halloween. And when Crowley had offered to take little Warlock out for them, they said all that candy wasn’t any good and refused. 

“Well,” Aziraphale said. “You’ll simply have to come with us this year.”

“You guys are going?”

Crowley scoffed, leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Some local hooligans convinced Aziraphale that Beez simply couldn’t miss her first Halloween.”

“Local hooligans?”

“They are actually quite lovely,” Aziraphale said. “I think you’ll like them. Who knows, you could even make friends.”

“I don’t need any friends.”

Beez made a garbled sound and reached out towards him. He couldn’t help but smile. He reached down and pulled her up, tapping a finger to her nose. “Except you, of course.” Beez smiled and hugged him.

“You will come with us, won’t you?” Aziraphale asked. But he asked it in such a way that told Warlock he was going to be going with them.

“I guess. Do I have to dress up?”

“I’m certainly not,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale gave him a sly little look. “Of course not, dear.” He looked back at Warlock. “Only if you want.”

-

“I’m here,” Warlock announced, tossing his bag again. This time he didn’t need to announce his presence as Crowley and Aziraphale were in the living room. They were arguing.

“No way,” Crowley said. “Aziraphale we are not going to dress her up as an angel.”

“Why not?” Aziraphale looked down at Beez, who was looking between the two of them from her pen. “She’d look absolutely charming.”

“We discussed this. She’s going to be a rebel biker.”

Aziraphale sighed. “No, dear. You said she would, and I told you no.”

“You can’t just tell me no.” Crowley crossed his arms and pouted. Because of course Aziraphale could. Aziraphale gave him a look that said as much.

“Why don’t you just let Beez pick what she wants to wear?” Warlock suggested. 

The two looked over at him. “I suppose that would make sense,” Aziraphale said.

“Not a terrible idea,” Crowley agreed. Crowley leaned over the pen. “What would you like to be, kid?” Beez bounced and clapped her hands, gurgling at him. “How did I know.” 

Crowley smiled and picked her up. He snapped his fingers and Beez was wearing a fuzzy little bee outfit. Aziraphale chuckled and pinched her cheek. “Don’t you look just adorable.”

“Why is she so obsessed with bees?” Warlock asked. 

Crowley shrugged. “Not sure. But she really is, isn’t she?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to dress up?” Aziraphale asked Warlock. “It could be fun.”

Warlock shrugged. “It sounds stupid. Besides, Crowley’s not.” Crowley frowned and Aziraphale chuckled at him. “He broke you, didn’t he?”

“You’ll understand one day when you’re in love,” Crowley mumbled. He placed Beez back in her pen and she rolled onto her stomach, pretending like she was flying. Then she actually did start to fly.

“Woah,” Warlock said. 

Aziraphale tutted. “Young lady come back down right now.” Beez pouted, still floating near the ceiling. “I won’t tell you again.”

Beez frowned and returned to the ground, staring at Aziraphale with glossy eyes. 

“None of that,” Aziraphale warned her. “Pouting will get you nowhere.” He turned to Warlock. “There’s still a few hours before everything starts, why don’t you get a start on your homework, hm?”

“Don’t have any,” Warlock said. “Yeah it’s a thing. No homework on Halloween.”

Aziraphale squinted at him and Warlock glanced over at Crowley, who sighed.

“Yeah it’s a thing,” Crowley said. “Teachers are nice like that. They know kids’ll be out all night, want to give them some freedom.”

Aziraphale looked between the two of them, not entirely convinced. “Well...I suppose that makes sense. But don’t think you can just spend the afternoon watching t.v. You can either read or play with Beez.”

Warlock rolled his eyes. That had been their rule for if he wanted to come over after school before going home. (Even though he viewed this as more his home than anywhere else). He had to follow their rules, however dumb they may be. 

“Fine.” He grumbled and then sat down next to the pen. It was better than being back at his other house, at least.

-

Crowley and Aziraphale had gone upstairs to get ready, leaving Warlock and Beez downstairs, a myriad of toys spread out around them. There was a knock at the door. Warlock got up to answer it, looking around to see if there was any bowl of candy to give out.

Four other teens, about his age, were standing around outside. One was a tall, lanky boy wearing a Where’s Waldo Waldo costume. The boy next to him was shorter, had glasses, and was wearing a clearly home-made-and-not-very-well candy corn outfit. Next to the two of them was a girl dressed like the Mad Hatter on steroids. And to round it all off, another boy, this one dressed up like a pirate. 

“Ahoy!” the pirate boy said.

“Uh, hi?”

“You must be Warlock,” the girl said. “I’m Pepper.” She held her hand out. Warlock shook it. 

“Is that them?” Aziraphale asked from upstairs. 

“I guess?” Warlock answered. He stepped to the side and the four teens entered the room. 

Aziraphale bounced down the stairs. He was wearing a rather well put-together Dracula costume, with what Warlock could only assume were actual, real fangs. “Ah, don’t you all look lovely.” He rushed up to them. “I believe introductions are in order, yes? Warlock, this is Adam, Pepper, Wensleydale, and Brian.”

Warlock waved slightly. “Hey.”

“Where’s your costume?” Bryan asked. Warlock just shrugged. 

“You have to have a costume,” Wensleydale said, “else they won’t give you any candy.”

“I don’t care about candy.” 

The four gasped. 

“Well, you have to wear a costume,” Pepper said.

“He does not,” Aziraphale said.

“It’s kind of a requirement,” Adam said. “You can’t just expect to get free candy for nothing. You have to put in a little effort.” The others nodded in agreement.

Warlock shrugged. He really didn’t care about the candy, but he hadn’t been entirely true when he said he didn’t need friends. Well, he didn’t need them. But he’d like them. “What would I even wear?”

“You could be a wizard or something,” Adam suggested.

“Yeah,” Wensleydale agreed. “Your name is Warlock.”

“You have to do something with magic,” Bryan said.

Warlock smiled. “I have an idea.” He raced upstairs to find Crowley.

Crowley was in the bathroom, applying some dark makeup to mirror stains of some sort on his face. He was wearing a wedding dress that had been torn up and covered in either dirt or old blood. 

“Bride of Dracula,” Warlock said, entering the room. “Classic. But can’t you just, like, wave your hand and put your make-up on?”

“I like doing it by hand,” Crowley said, looking at him in the mirror. “It’s relaxing.”

Warlock nodded. Makes sense. “Hey, I had an idea for a costume?”

“Oh? Aziraphale get ya to cave, too?”

“No. But he’s certainly not going to like it.”

Crowley glanced over at him and Warlock smirked. 

A few minutes later, Warlock and Crowley joined the others downstairs, Warlock sporting a smart, black coat, a top hat, and a ridiculously fake mustache. Aziraphale frowned at them.

“Are you a magician or something?” Pepper asked. 

“More than that. I’m the world’s worst magician.” He smiled over at Aziraphale, who was opening scowling now. 

“Yes, yes, very funny.” He grabbed Beez from Wensleydale. She had been trying to eat his costume and cried out in frustration when she was pulled away. 

“Don’t worry, kid,” Crowley said. “Lots of candy to be had tonight.”

“But not too much,” Aziraphale added. “And nothing too small for her to choke on.”

“Course, course. C’mon then, the night ain’t getting any younger.”

Warlock was the first to head out, finally at least a little bit excited about the night’s festivities. A little dog wearing a pair of little, red devil wings. The dog barked at him and waved its tail.

“C’mon, Dog,” Adam said, filing out of the house with the others. 

“You named your dog, Dog?” Warlock asked.

“It’s easier that way. No confusion, you know.”

“Should have named him cat. Nothing but confusion that way.”

“I like the way you think,” Pepper said, clapping him on the back.

Warlock found the need to repeatedly say ‘trick or treat’ and having to thank everyone annoying, but he was getting candy, at least. And he found that Adam and the others were actually kind of fun. They entertained his ideas on pranks, even if Aziraphale managed to figure them all out and shut them down. And watching Beez get overly excited over every piece of candy was kind of fun, too.

But Warlock found that the most fun part of the night (other than watching Crowley blush and grumble every time Aziraphale complimented his costume) was sitting back at the cottage, around the coffee table with his new friends and trading for the best candy. 

“So what’s your favorite Halloween movie?” Adam asked, trading a small pile of mediocre candy for a full-sized bar from Bryan. 

Warlock shrugged. “Haven’t seen many.”

“Ridiculous,” Pepper said. “You’d think having a dad like Crowley you’d be all caught up.”

“You’d think,” Warlock mumbled, only a little bitter that Beez would get that life, the life he should have had as their kid. He looked over at her. She was sitting on Crowley’s lap on the couch, happily sucking on a lollipop. 

“You simply need to be educated,” Adam said.

“Oh no,” Wensleydale said. “We are not watching any scary movies. I didn’t sleep for two weeks last year.”

“Don’t be such a scaredy cat,” Pepper said. 

“It’s alright,” Adam said. “We gotta start with the classics anyway.”

“I’ve got the whole Halloweentown series at my house,” Bryan offered. Pepper rolled her eyes. 

“Perfect!” Adam started shoveling his pile back into his bag. “We’ll go to Bryan’s and get sick eating candy while watching movies until we pass out.”

“An excellent plan,” Wensleydale agreed.

“Yeah, one sec.” Warlock climbed to his feet and walked up to Crowley. “Hey, uh, can I go over to Bryan’s tonight?” A.K.A. can you use your magic so no one notices I’m gone at the other house.

“Have fun,” Crowley said, nodding. “And don’t do anything I would do.”

“That leaves nothing else to do,” Warlock said, laughing a bit before joining the others again. They gathered their candy and left, a full night of merriment before them.

Aziraphale came back downstairs a few moments later, all cleaned up and back in his normal clothes. “Where did the party go?”

Crowley adjusted Beez, who had fallen asleep against his chest. “I gave them a couple dozen eggs and rolls of toilet paper and told ‘em to go wild.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale warned, sitting on the couch next to him. 

“Relax. They went to one of the hooligan’s to watch movies.”

Aziraphale rubbed a thumb over Crowley’s cheek, smearing a bit of the make-up. “Don’t you want to go take all that off?”

“I think I look rather good,” Crowley said. “I might make this my new look.”

“Well, it certainly does suit you, darling.” Aziraphale snuggled up to his side and smiled down at Beez. “Are you happy, dear?”

“She’s asleep,” Crowley said. “Can’t hear you.”

“I wasn’t asking her.” Aziraphale leaned his head against Crowley’s shoulder and tilted it up to look at him. 

“‘Course I am,” Crowley said. He kissed his forehead. 

“Just checking.”

“And you?”

“Happier than a clam.”

Crowley chuckled and laid his head on top of Aziraphale’s. To think he could be anything other than happy in a home like this.


	7. Family Snow Fun Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe Warlock is actually the most well-adjusted one here

Crowley and Warlock stood side by side, arms crossed as they watched Aziraphale kneel on the floor next to Beez. He was slipping a second coat on her. Then he wrapped a long scarf around her neck and lower face. A soft, red hat was placed over her head, so that there was just barely a crack for her to see out of.

“Can she even move?” Warlock asked. 

Aziraphale stood up, picking Beez with him and holding her to his hip. Her arms were sticking straight out. 

“Yeah. I think it’s a bit much, angel,” Crowley agreed.

“Babies can’t regulate their body temperature as well as we can,” Aziraphale said. “We don’t want her to get cold.”

“It’s not that cold outside,” Warlock argued. Cold enough for a snow day, but not that bad.

“Better safe than sorry.” Aziraphale adjusted his grip on Beez and walked out. Crowley and Warlock exchanged a glance, then picked up their sleds and followed. 

The little family trudged their way across the empty street, to the field and hill that the other neighborhood kids were playing on. Warlock spotted Adam and the others and raced over, waving back at them. 

Beez was looking up at the sky. She reached out, holding her hand up to the soft flakes that fell from the sky. One landed on her nose and she giggled. 

“Here, try this.” Crowley bent down next to her and stuck out his tongue. She mimicked him, laughing as the snow melted against her tongue. She bounced in Aziraphale’s arms and clapped. 

Beez reached out towards the ground and burbled out, “down, down.”

Aziraphale gently sat Beez down. As soon as he let go she fell back, nearly disappearing into the snow. Aziraphale startled and reached in, pulling her back out, mumbling as he cleaned the snow off. But Beez was laughing.

“Again, again!” She gurgled. Aziraphale just continued to clean her off. “Again!”

“What is she saying, dear?” Aziraphale asked, glancing over at Crowley who had been preoccupied watching Warlock and the others on their sleds.

“Huh?” He swiveled his head back around and looked at Beez. 

“Snow!” Beez said, reaching out to Crowley. “Wanna be snow, Papa!”

“Here, let me see her.” He took Beez from Aziraphale’s arms, Aziraphale still trying to clean her off. “You ready, kid?” 

Beez bounced and nodded. Crowley made a show of it, swinging her back and forth a bit. Beez laughed but Aziraphale watched them with a wary look, hand reaching out every now and then as if he had half a mind to stop them. 

“Weee,” Crowley said, releasing his hold, letting Beez fly a bit before landing in the soft snow, a toddler shaped hole in the surface.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried, voice distraught. He ran over to where Beez had disappeared, frantically pulling her up. She was laughing, but that did nothing to ease Aziraphale’s fury. He held Beez close and glared at Crowley. “What were you thinking?”

Crowley shrugged. “It’s fun. She’s fine. Don’t worry so much.”

“You just threw her!”

“Into snow.”

“Crowley!”

Beez started to cry and they both looked down at her. She wasn’t communicating, just crying.

“See?” Aziraphale said, smoothing down Beez’s hair. “You’ve hurt her.”

“I didn’t hurt her,” Crowley argued. “You think I’d do that?”

“Well, not on purpose, of course. But she’s a baby. You can’t just throw her around.”

“She’s not made of glass, Aziraphale.”

Beez’s cries intensified. She squirmed in Aziraphale’s arms, trying to get away. Crowley squinted, trying to see if he could pick up any words but she was just crying. He reached out to take her but she leaned away from his grasp as well.

“Is everything okay?” Warlock asked, jogging up to the three of them. Beez saw him and reached out, opening and closing her hands. He took her from Aziraphale, rubbing her back.

“Crowley threw her and she got hurt,” Aziraphale said.

“She didn’t get hurt. She started crying when you smothered her.”

Warlock ignored their arguing, looking down at Beez. She was holding onto his shirt, pressing her face to his shoulder, pushing away from her dads. He sighed. “Idiots.” Aziraphale and Crowley stopped arguing, turning to face him. “She’s not hurt or smothered. She’s crying because you two are fighting.”

“We aren’t fighting,” Crowley said. “We’re having a conversation.”

“Where you yell at each other?” Warlock asked.

“Is that not how you have conversations?”

Warlock rolled his eyes. “You can have her back when you two make up.” He turned and carried her over to the others.

Aziraphale looked down at his feet. “I didn’t mean to yell,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets, scrunching his shoulders up. “Yeah. I’m sorry, too.”

They stood there in awkward silence for a moment. Crowley reached over with one foot, gently toeing at Aziraphale’s boot. Aziraphale smiled and looked up. “Don’t think being cute is going to get you out of trouble. I’m still very cross with you.”

“I’m sorry I threw her,” Crowley said. “But it was perfectly safe, and she wanted to play in the snow.”

“I know you wouldn't put her in harm’s way. I didn’t mean to imply that. It’s just that she’s so small. And weak! I don’t want her getting hurt.”

Crowley stepped up and pulled Aziraphale into a hug, kissing his cheek. “She’s gonna be fine, angel. She’s our kid, after all. That makes her pretty dang strong in my opinion.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Beez shrieked and they both turned towards the noise. She was sitting in Warlock’s lap, the two of them speeding down the hill on his sled. Aziraphale jumped and ran over, Crowley chuckling and trailing after him. 

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale around the waist before he could go charging down the hill after them. “It’s alright,” he whispered in his ear. “She’s fine. Look. She’s having fun.” 

Crowley pointed down to the bottom of the hill. Beez was sitting in the sled, laughing as Warlock pulled it and her back up to the top. Aziraphale smiled, and Crowley had to give him credit for how calm he was trying to appear.

“Well, wasn’t that fun?” He picked up Beez and not-so-subtly looked her over. “How about we build a nice little snowman, hm?”

“Again! Go woosh!” Beez gurgled. She pointed at the sled, looking at Aziraphale with wide eyes. 

“Would you like to go down with your Dada?” Crowley asked, leaning over Aziraphale’s shoulder.

Beez gasped. “Dada go!”

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley. “Please tell me she said no.”

Crowley smiled. He kissed Aziraphale’s cheek. “Ah, c’mon. It’ll be fun.” He squeezed Aziraphale’s arm and then turned to their sled, setting it up at the top of the hill. 

“Go on,” Warlock said, shaking the snow out of his hair. “It’s fun.”

Aziraphale held Beez to his chest and looked down the hill. It didn’t seem that far. “What if we fall?” he asked. “That’s a long way to tumble.”

“We won’t.” Crowley settled himself down in the back of the sled, patting the space before him. He winked. “Promise.”

Aziraphale sat down in front of him, holding Beez close to his chest. She laughed and bounced a bit. Aziraphale leaned back against Crowley’s chest, knowing that the strength and warmth behind him would protect them both. He nodded and Crowley pushed them forward.

Wind rushed at his face and his stomach seemed to do a flip. He opened his mouth but his breath had been knocked out of him. Meanwhile Crowley whooped and Beez laugh-shrieked. They reached the bottom of the hill, the sled turning sideways as they slowed to a stop. 

Aziraphale shook a bit, adrenaline coursing through his body as he leaned against Crowley. “What a rush,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

Crowley chuckled and kissed the back of his head. “I take it you enjoyed yourself?”

“Oh my, yes.”

Beez gurgled. “Again!”

Aziraphale looked down at her, catching her drift. “Yes, rather. I think we shall!”


	8. Christmas Miracles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow this got a plot idk don't ask me. It'll still mostly be cute fluffy family bits  
but this ain't the last time the others will be around!

Aziraphale wandered into the living room and smiled at the sight before him. Crowley was asleep on the couch, Beez sleeping on his chest. They were wearing their matching Christmas pajamas, and with a little chuckle Aziraphale miracled himself into a similar pair. They were a matching set, after all.

He walked over and placed a kiss to each of their heads, Beez shifting and opening her eyes. She stared up at him, and gurgled softly. He picked her up, careful to make sure he hadn’t woken Crowley. “How about some breakfast?” he whispered.

Beez blinked tiredly at him and nodded, resting her head on Aziraphale’s shoulders. He carried her into the kitchen and continued to hold her with one arm as he readied her breakfast. She gurgled something, and he wished he could understand her in the way that Crowley could. It was a special little connection they had. 

Aziraphale forgot about it and set Beez in her high chair, keeping an eye on her as he put her bowl of food down. She opened her mouth, eagerly awaiting nutrition. Aziraphale smiled and fed her a spoonful. She mirrored his smile as she smashed her food around in her mouth. 

After they were done, Aziraphale cleaned her face up and carried her back into the living room. Crowley was still asleep, spread out all over the couch. Aziraphale tutted. “Can you believe he’s still asleep?”

Beez looked at him and nodded. The doorbell rang and Crowley stumbled awake. “Whu-?” he asked, looking around.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Aziraphale said. “It was just the door.”

“Who’s here so early?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale shrugged and walked to the door. It was too early for Warlock to be by, and unless he lost his key, he didn’t need to ring the bell. Aziraphale opened the door and then immediately shut it, backing away, grip tightening on Beez.

“Angel?” Crowley asked, standing up. “What’s wrong?”

There was a knock at the door and then Gabriel’s voice. “Open up, Aziraphale.”

Crowley jumped forward, placing himself between his family and the door. Aziraphale tried to miracle them away but something was blocking him. They were trapped. “Crowley,” he whispered.

There was another knock, and now Beelzebub was talking. “We know you’re in there, Crowley.”

“You two get out,” Crowley whispered. “Through the back door, I’ll keep them busy.”

“Nonsense!” Aziraphale said, offended at the suggestion. “I’m not leaving you!”

Crowley spun around, grabbing Aziraphale’s shoulders. “We have to keep her safe,” he hissed. “Now go!”

There wasn’t time for Aziraphale to argue anymore. The door flew in, wood splintering as four angels and four demons filed in.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Gabriel chided, scowling at Beelzebub. 

“Talking was getting us nowhere,” Hastur said.

“They only answer to force,” Ligur agreed.

“Barbaric,” Michael whispered.

“You’re one to talk, love,” Ligur said.

Aziraphale and Crowley watched this conversation play out. Crowley had turned back around, holding his arms out and backing them up. Aziraphale squeezed Beez to his chest. He would not let them take her.

“Get out!” Crowley yelled, halting their bickering. 

Eight heads of once-murderous intent turned towards him. “That’s not a very nice way to greet your guests,” Gabriel informed him.

“He’s a demon,” Beelzebub said, eyes rolling. “He’s not meant to be nice.”

“_Was_ a demon,” Hastur corrected. Beelzebub and the other still-demons nodded.

“You are not welcome here,” Aziraphale said. He didn’t want to draw attention to Beez, but he couldn’t just stand by and let this go on. “So just leave.”

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, his eyebrows knitting together as his head tilted. “Where is this aggression coming from?”

“You tried to kill him,” Crowley hissed. He gestured to them all. “You tried to kill both of us.”

“Oh would you get over that?” Dagon said. 

“Water under the bridge,” Uriel agreed.

Aziraphale and Crowley would have moved back further if it wasn’t for the wall Aziraphale was pressed up against. Obviously they were lying. They had to be. This was just another ruse to get back at them for stopping their stupid war.

“Now, hand over the child,” Michael said, holding her arms out.

“Not a fucking chance!” Crowley growled. His wings flapped into existence, stretching out to block their access to Aziraphale and Beez. 

“Don’t over react,” Beelzebub said. They rolled their eyes.

“We have gifts,” Sandalphon announced. 

Gabriel turned and pointed at him with a smile. “Yes.” He turned back, hands to the side in an open gesture. “We have gifts.”

“Gifts?” Aziraphale asked, standing on his toes to peak over Crowley’s wing. He had never once heard of an angel giving out gifts. Well. He had given out gifts, but that didn’t count. 

“For the child,” Ligur explained. 

Gabriel held an arm behind him and Uriel passed him something small and brown. He presented it to them. “This is an authentic toy from the 14th century,” he explained. It was a terribly inaccurate depiction of a bear, and it looked a little faded. 

Beez, who had lifted her head to also peek out at them, didn’t seem to mind. She gurgled and twisted in Aziraphale’s arms, reaching for it.

“No,” Aziraphale told her, pulling her back. She struggled against his grip.

“There’s the little angel,” Gabriel said, smiling at her. 

“Little demon,” Beelzebub said, elbowing Gabriel in the side, shoving him out of the way. “After all, she is named after one.”

“It used to be an angelic name,” Aziraphale mumbled, aware it wasn’t helping any.

“Whatever her name may be,” Gabriel said, fixing his suit, bear still in hand. “She will join our side.”

Beelzebub scoffed. “In your dreams.” They snapped their fingers. “Hastur, present the gift.”

Hastur stepped forward and held out one hand, holding a mobile from his grip. It was red, and it jingled, all kinds of hellish creatures spinning around. 

Beez stared at it then gurgled something and reached out towards Gabriel. 

“There,” Gabriel said, smiling. “She’s already made the right choice.” Crowley raised his wing to block Gabriel’s attempt to hand the bear over. “Really, Crowley. There’s no need to be dramatic.”

“Why are you here?” Aziraphale asked, pressing himself against Crowley’s back. 

“We’re here to properly meet the child,” Michael explained.

“Since you couldn’t be bothered to invite us earlier,” Hastur said, glaring at them.

“You are not privy to our personal lives,” Crowley said, sneering back at him.

“Privy?” Dagon asked. 

“See?” Gabriel said, looking pleased as punch. “Aziraphale’s angelicness has even influenced the demon here. Clearly the child will be swayed towards the light.”

They took to arguing again and Aziraphale leaned over, whispering in Crowley’s ear. “It sounds to me like they’re trying to make Beez out to be...not quite a new antichrist but…”

“Something to fight over,” Crowley finished.

Aziraphale nodded. “Either way, I don’t think we’re in any particular danger.” He gently rubbed over Crowley’s wing with his spare hand. Crowley signed and relented, folding them away. 

Beez garbled and reached out towards Gabriel again.

“I know you want the bear,” Crowley said, taking her from Aziraphale. “But it could be poisoned or something.”

“How are they going to poison a bear?” Aziraphale asked.

“I don’t know but they could!”

There was a pop and panic gripped at both of them as Beez disappeared from his arms. Aziraphale hadn’t even been aware that he was suppressing her powers. It had just been a reflex reaction to the danger. But now she was back in control and she was sitting at Gabriel’s feet, hands reaching up to him.

Crowley raced forward, picking her up off the ground. She managed to grab the bear from Gabriel as he pulled her away. Beez sat content in Crowley’s arms as she stared at the bear, running fingers over it. She didn’t seem to be having any adverse reactions to it. Yet, anyway.

“There,” Aziraphale said. “You’ve come. You’ve met. You’ve given your gifts. Now please leave.”

“No please,” Crowley mumbled. “Just get out.”

“We haven’t properly met,” Michael informed them. 

“Yes,” Gabriel agreed. He held his hands out to Crowley. “Let us see her properly.”

“No,” Crowley said, his hold on Beez tightening.

“Don’t think you’re in any position to argue, traitor,” Beelzebub said. Warned, really.

Aziraphale tested it again. They were still holding them there. And two against eight weren’t exactly good odds. He shared a look with Crowley, knowing he was thinking the same thing. And Crowley growled because handing over their child was the very last thing they should do. 

“Relax,” Gabriel urged. “If we wanted to hurt you we would have by now.”

“Just tell us exactly why you’re here,” Aziraphale said. “And maybe we’ll consider it.”

They all looked around at each other. Gabriel made a face and shrugged, gesturing at Beelzebub. They stepped forward. “We’re going to settle things, once and for all. With the child.”

Beez burbled at them.

“Whoever the child decides to side with will determine once and for all which is best,” Dagon explained.

“And if she chooses neither?” Aziraphale asked.

“She’ll choose,” Sandalphon said with a sneer.

Aziraphale gulped and pulled Crowley closer. Beez had felt like such a blessing in their life. Of course it came with a side of this. 

“She’s not playing your little game,” Crowley said with a bite. “And neither are we. So leave!”

“You can’t opt out of this one,” Dagon said. 

They stepped forward, quite menacingly. Beez shrieked and with a shock of electricity Dagon was no longer in the room. Or the house. Not even the country. The others looked around at the empty space before turning looks of confusion to the baby. Aziraphale smiled, quite proudly.

“Alright, kid,” Beelzebub said. “Bring ‘em back.”

Beez gave them a challenging stare. 

“Be a good little brat and bring them back,” Beelzebub snapped.

“Yes,” Gabriel agree, with a smug little smile. “Do be good.”

Beelzebub glared at him and Aziraphale had to bite back a chuckle. At least their squabbling provided entertainment.

Said squabbling was cut off with Dagon popping back into the room, soaked with water, a starfish stuck to their head. “That was unpleasant,” they said, shaking themselves dry. 

Beez frowned at them but didn’t make another attempt to get rid of them. She had already proved that she was going to defend herself and her dads. Now the others knew that Aziraphale and Crowley weren’t completely at their mercy. Which means, if they wanted them out, they had to go out.

“A few minutes,” Gabriel suggested, forced smile on his face. “Then we’ll go.”

Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look with each other, and then with Beez. She babbled something and then Crowley sighed with a nod. “Fine,” he said. He stared at the other. “Ten seconds each!”

“Let’s sit then, shall we?” Aziraphale gestured to the living room and they shuffled over. Aziraphale and Crowley sat down on one couch, Beelzebub in Crowley’s lap. Gabriel, Sandalphon, and Michael sat on the other, with Uriel standing beside them. Beelzebub sat in one chair with Dagon beside them, and Ligur sat in the other, Hastur next to him. A quick snap of Aziraphale’s fingers brought up chairs for the others.

“Ten seconds,” Crowley reminded with a growl. He hesitated for a second and then passed Beez over to her namesake, holding onto her bear for her.

Beelzebub grinned at her, but Beez was not amused. She, like her parents, did not enjoy being threatened. 

“I can feel the wrath growing in you as we speak,” Beelzebub said. “Excellent.”

They paid mind to the ten-second rule, passing Beez around to each other. Aziraphale gripped tight to Crowley’s arm as he watched them all. He worried for many things, chief among them how meeting everyone was going to affect Beez. He had read that too many strangers could upset children. 

But she seemed at ease as she was shuffled around. Eventually she made her way back to Aziraphale, who hugged her close and kissed her head. 

“There,” Crowley said. “You’ve met. Now out!”

“Very well,” Gabriel said with an annoyed sigh. 

They stood, Hastur leaving the demonic mobile on the coffee table. There was a cracking of wood and everyone looked to the door hanging off its hinges. Warlock was looking at it as he stepped over the splinters on the ground. 

“Wow,” he said. 

Aziraphale’s eyes widened and Crowley strode across the room, his hands on Warlock’s shoulders, trying to shuffle him out of view.

The angels and demons saw him, however. 

“Is that the diplomat’s son?” Gabriel asked.

Hastur made a little noise, something like a growl but not quite. 

“Time to go,” Crowley said. He turned, hiding Warlock behind him and gestured outside. “On your way, chop-chop.”

“I didn’t know you had company,” Warlock said. He scoffed. “Didn’t know you knew anyone else.”

“It’s him alright,” Hastur said. 

“Yes, well.” Aziraphale chuckled nervously. “Awfully good to see you all. Off you go now.” He shooed them out of the space. With a small glare from Beez, they obliged, filing out and disappearing. 

“What was that all about?” Warlock asked. Crowley finally moved away, snapping at the door to fix it.

“Just a little...family reunion,” Aziraphale said. 

“We’re related to those people?” Warlock asked. “Well that bodes well for the future.”

Beez gurgled out what sounded like a question. 

“No they are not,” Crowley told her, taking her from Aziraphale’s grip. “But yes, fine. You can keep the bear.” He handed it over and she giggled, hugging it close. He groaned.

“I brought some gifts too,” Warlock announced. He slipped his bag off and opened it, pulling out three, perfectly wrapped gifts.

“Dear, you didn’t have to do that,” Aziraphale said, smoothing down Warlock’s hair a bit.

Warlock just shrugged. “It’s Christmas. 'Tis the season or whatever.”

“Well let’s not stand around waiting!” Crowley said. “Let’s open ‘em!”

Aziraphale chuckled as Crowley corralled Warlock to the living room. He went to the closet and pulled out his own stash of gifts. Crowley’s had appeared rather suddenly on the table.

“Mine first,” Warlock announced. He handed them over.

Beez stared at hers, and then stuck a corner in her mouth, drooling on the wrapping. “Ah, ah, ah,” Aziraphale said. He leaned over, pulling it out of her mouth. “I know it looks like candy but it’s not.”

Crowley helped her open it, revealing a little hat that was covered in a cute bee design. She laughed at it and bounced on Crowley’s knee. He smiled and put it on her head. “Adorable,” he said. 

“That’s a lovely gift, Warlock,” Aziraphale told him. Warlock shrugged and gestured to their own gifts, his leg bouncing, his hands fidgeting.

He had gotten them both the same gift, just in different styles. It was a little key chain, with four stones inlaid in them, the names of the four in that room engraved next to them. Aziraphale’s was gold and Crowley’s was silver. 

“You don’t have to keep them if you don’t want them.”

Aziraphale was up and crossing to the other couch in an instant. “We love them, dear,” he said, sitting down and hugging them. “It was very thoughtful, thank you.”

“Yeah,” Crowley agreed, a bit choked up. He cleared his throat. “It’s good.”

Warlock just nodded, blushing a bit and looking away. Genetics or not, he was Crowley’s son for sure. 

“Alright. My turn,” Aziraphale announced. 

Warlock tore open his gift as soon as it was in his hands. It was a scarf that Aziraphale had carefully woven together himself. It was decorated in his tartan pattern, with a bit of red fringe at the end.

“Rad,” Warlock said, wrapping it around himself. “Ohh and warm. Thanks!”

Crowley helped Beez open hers again. The paper tore away, revealing a round, soft pillow that looked like a rather fat bee. She squealed and pressed her face to it. 

“As long as she keeps the bee thing up, she’ll be very easy to shop for,” Crowley noted. 

“Yours now dear,” Aziraphale said, nodding to the thin rectangle next to him.

“Is this going to make me cry?” Crowley asked. 

“Probably,” Aziraphale said. His gifts had a tendency to get that reaction out of him.

“I’ll open it later,” he said, pushing it away.

“You can’t do that,” Warlock argued. “I wanna see what it is!”

“Here, see what this is instead.” Crowley shoved a present at him.

Warlock gave him a look but opened it up all the same. “Excellent,” he said with a wide smile. Aziraphale peaked over at it. It was some kind of video game, one that Aziraphale didn’t think looked entirely appropriate. “Thanks, dad.”

Warlock’s body tensed, the room growing quiet. Aziraphale looked over at Crowley, who seemed equally tense. 

He took mercy on them, opening his own gift with a happy smile. “Oh, my,” Aziraphale said. He pulled out a pair of long socks, featuring a pattern of smiling sushi characters on it. There was also a cookbook. “Thank you, darling. But you know I don’t cook.”

“No,” Crowley corrected him. “You can’t cook. But it’s never too late to learn.”

Aziraphale gave him an unamused look but he couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the grin on Crowley’s face. His attention turned to Beez, who was failing to open her gift spectacularly. 

“Here,” Crowley said, reaching down to help her pull the paper apart. It revealed a set of farm animal toys, all squishy and bouncy. He set her down on the ground with them and she giggled as she played with them.

“Thank you both,” Aziraphale said, hugging Warlock again. “This was a rather lovely little morning, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Warlock said, still looking a little weird over what he had said. 

“Want to test it out?” Crowley asked, nodding to the game in Warlock’s lap.

“Hell yeah!”

They shuffled over to the television. Aziraphale shook his head and picked up Beez and her toys. “Come now,” he said, holding his cookbook in his other hand. “Let’s go prove him wrong, hm?”

-

Aziraphale’s dinner had been better, they both agreed. And after an even lovelier evening of family fun, Warlock returned home and Aziraphale put Beez to bed. She refused to take off her hat, so she slept with it, resting against her new pillow. When he came back downstairs to the calm and quiet, Crowley was sitting on the couch, present in lap, staring at it. 

“You’ll have to open it eventually, dear,” Aziraphale told him. He sat next to him, rubbing his arm.

“I do not,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale shrugged and settled back with a book. A few minutes ticked past. Finally, with a heavy sigh, Crowley turned the package over and carefully opened it, preserving the wrapping perfectly. 

Inside was a photo album. Inside of that was a series of pictures, some featuring Crowley with Beez and others featuring him with young Warlock. Aziraphale had tried to match them up, so that each pair had some sort of parallel. 

Crowley turned to look at him. His eyes were a little glossy, but he wasn’t crying. “I got you socks,” he said, mortified.

Aziraphale chuckled at him. “That’s not true,” he said. “You got me socks and a cookbook."

Crowley’s eyes screwed shut and he groaned. Aziraphale laughed and put his book down. He reached over and pulled Crowley close. 

“You know I don’t care about gifts,” Aziraphale told him, one hand playing with his hair. “I’m just so glad I got to spend the day with you. And our children.”

Crowley nodding. “I’ll make it up to you,” he said. 

“Nothing to make up, darling.” Aziraphale kissed his forehead and Crowley relaxed against him. “I had a lovely day.”

“We should worry about what happened this morning, shouldn’t we?” Crowley asked.

“Tomorrow,” Aziraphale said. “Let’s just enjoy the night.”

And enjoy it they did.


	9. First teeth herald first words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even have any excuses  
Thank you all for sticking around <3

Crowley shrugged his coat on, watching as Aziraphale gently bounced Beez in his arms. “Now, you’re sure you’ll be alright?” he asked.

Aziraphale gave an exasperated sigh. “Yes, dear. I am quite certain. You’d better get a move on now, or you’ll be late.”

“I can stay,” Crowley offered. “If you want.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Honestly. The two of us will be perfectly fine. You go and enjoy the movie with Warlock now.”

Crowley nodded, squinting a little bit. He could tell Aziraphale was nervous. It wasn’t like he hadn’t spent time alone with Beez before, but he had never done it without the safety net that came with having Crowley near-by. 

“Alright. Just call me if you need anything.” Crowley kissed Aziraphale on the cheek and Beez on the head. He glanced over them again, giving Aziraphale one last chance to change his mind, then left.

-

Aziraphale huffed, turning his attention to Beez. “We don’t need him, do we?”

Beez babbled something, then shook her head. Aziraphale smiled and hugged her close.

“See? Two intelligent beings such as us don’t need a translator to get the message across. Why, parents have been doing this for thousands of years! We’ll be just fine.”

Beez burbled a bit, and Aziraphale could only assume she was agreeing with him. 

Aziraphale sat down in his favorite armchair, Beez sitting on his lap, and looked over the stack of Crowley-approved books he had. 

“Now, what shall our entertainment for the night be, hm?” He picked up one of the books and held it out to her. “Shall we continue the harrowing adventures of the young Pevensie children?”

Beez clapped and bounced excitedly. Aziraphale smiled at her and rearranged their positions so she could rest against him and watch the pages and pictures as he read to her. It was proving to be a very lovely evening, after all.

True, Aziraphale had been a bit apprehensive when Crowley mentioned leaving for the evening to take Warlock to some new movie or another. He had gotten so used to being able to just ask Crowley what Beez was saying. And things were much easier when they could all communicate properly. But Aziraphale couldn’t expect Crowley to be bound to their side just because he can speak baby. No, no. He had a life. Aziraphale had a life. And they both needed to be able to live them. 

Besides, as it was turning out, all of Aziraphale’s fears were seemingly unjustified. Parents _had_ been doing this for thousands of years after all. And he was, if nothing else, a good parent.

More than that, Crowley and Warlock were going to a later showing for the movie. (A bit too late for a school night, Aziraphale thought, but didn’t argue). And Beez would be asleep soon enough. Nothing to worry about at all.

Beez’s eyes started to droop, closing slowly, then opening again as she realized what was happening. With a simple thought, Aziraphale’s chair had a rocking component. He pushed gently with his toes, sending the two of them back and forth in a slow, soothing motion. The poor dear was simply defenseless, and, in a few seconds, she was asleep.

Aziraphale placed the book down and stayed there for a while, keeping up the rock to make sure she was truly and deeply asleep. Then he gathered her up in his arms and carried her to bed. 

“Goodnight, my little angel,” he said, leaning over her crib to place a kiss on her forehead. “Dream the sweetest dreams.”

-

Aziraphale settled himself in his study with a warm cup of cocoa and an old favorite book of his. (One certainly not appropriate for children). He had taken care of Beez all by himself, and now he got his reward in the form of some much deserved alone time. 

He sat in his chair, took a sip of his drink, stretched out his back, and opened the book. The baby monitor on his desk came to life with the sounds of a child crying. His child crying.

Aziraphale was upstairs in an instant. Beez was sitting up in her crib, tears on her face. She held onto the bars with one hand, the other a fist shoved in her mouth. Upon seeing Aziraphale enter the room, she upgraded her cries from simple sobs to a full-on wail.

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said, rushing over to her. She reached out to him with the hand not in her mouth and he gathered her up in his arms, cuddling her close. “What seems to be the matter?” he asked. Then he remembered he couldn’t actually understand what she was trying to say, if, that is, she was even saying anything at all.

For a brief moment, Aziraphale thought about calling Crowley. A simple conversation over the phone and he could tell Aziraphale exactly what the problem was. But Aziraphale wanted to prove he could do this alone. Because he knew he could.

“Let’s run through the list, shall we?”

A new diaper seemed to make no difference. And when Aziraphale sat her down in her high chair to eat, she turned her head at every spoonful, refusing to take her fist out of her mouth.

Aziraphale frowned and gently grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand out of her mouth. Beez squealed in defiance.

“I just want to take a look,” Aziraphale explained in a calming, soothing voice. He figured maybe she had hurt it somehow, had knocked it against something in her sleep. (Crowley had done that once to his leg).

But upon inspection, Aziraphale could see nothing wrong with her hand. No cuts or bruises. No bones seemed to be broken. Then he saw something interesting. A little divet in her thumb. An indentation that looked a little bit like a tooth mark.

Aziraphale picked Beez up from her chair and held her mouth open with one hand, peeking around. “Ah-ha!” he declared. “I think I see the problem.”

The problem was a little white dot poking its way through Beez’s gums. 

“Here,” he said, guiding her fist back to her mouth. “You can have this back while I find something else for you to teeth on.”

Aziraphale carried his crying tot to his study. He had picked up a number of parenting books and magazines in that first week of new parenthood. He hadn’t really had much of a use for them. Beez was such a good child, and any problems they had re: her powers certainly didn’t have answers in these books.

But teething was a normal, human part of life. And Aziraphale cracked open the first book, eager to learn from the experts.

The experts all agreed on two things most important for teething gums. Pressure and cold. Aziraphale wasn’t going to go putting his child’s hand in the freezer, of course. But a nice new teething ring, chilled for a few minutes, would suffice.

“It’s alright, Dear,” Aziraphale said, swaying back and forth a bit as he pulled Beez’s fist back out of her mouth. “This is going to feel much better, trust me.” 

Beez cried a note of anger once more. Aziraphale held her close and raised the chilled toy to her mouth. At first, she pulled her head away from it. But then the pain must have gotten to her and she leaned forward, biting down on it hard. 

“How’s that feel?” Aziraphale asked, rubbing her back and bouncing her. “Bit better?”

Beez sniffed, her tears slowing, no longer screaming. She curled against Aziraphale, laying her head on his shoulder as she chewed on the toy. 

Aziraphale carried her back out to the living room, settling once more in his armchair. He picked up their book and read to her, rocking the chair gently as Beez calmed down in his arms. Even after she had fallen back asleep, the toy hanging loosely in her mouth, he continued to read.

The door opened, Crowley trudging his way in. His coat and hair were covered with a light dusting of snow, and Aziraphale peeked outside, surprised he hadn’t even noticed it starting.

“Hey,” Crowley said, a whisper as soon as he saw Beez in Aziraphale’s lap.

“Hello, dear,” Aziraphale greeted in an equal quiet. “How was your movie?” 

Crowley walked over and sat on the arm of the chair, leaning against Aziraphale. “It was good.” He reached down and gently rustled the tuft of hair on Beez’s head. “How was your night?”

“Interesting, to say the least. Beez started teething.”

“Ah, poor thing.”

Aziraphale nodded and leaned back against Crowley’s embrace. “Yes. She was crying something fierce. So I did a little bit of research and chilled a teething ring for her. Seemed to work quite well.”

Crowley smiled at him and brought his hand up to tangle in Aziraphale’s hair instead. “Why didn’t you just miracle the pain away?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth, then frowned. “I...I didn’t even think about it.” He looked up at Crowley. “I supposed I was just so caught up in the idea of doing things the proper way I forgot we had other methods at our disposal.”

Crowley smiled again. It was his soft, sincere smile. The one very few people ever got, and that Aziraphale had in droves. “I love you,” he said.

Aziraphale smiled a similar smile back. “I love you too, my dear.”

“Let’s get the little one to bed,” Crowley said. He took Beez from Aziraphale’s arms, standing up with her. The toy dropped and fell on Aziraphale’s lap. 

Beez’s eyes peeled open a bit. She looked around at the space. Then, in a very quiet voice, she said “Dada.”

Aziraphale gasped and Crowley froze. 

“Did she just say what I think she said?” Aziraphale asked. He stood up with a jump. 

Crowley’s smile widened. “I do declare she did.” He handed Beez back over.

Aziraphale took her with a look of awe on his face. “Crowley I-” He looked between the two of them, his heart beating wildly, his face open in a wide grin. “That was me she said, right?”

“Pretty positive.” Crowley stepped closer, a hand around on Aziraphale’s back, the other on Beez’s head. She was already back to sleep, curled up against Aziraphale’s chest.

“I...I…_thank you_,” he said. 

Crowley’s eyebrows creased together. “For what?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “Just...for everything. For being my friend. For being my husband. For...for growing the garden that she came from. All of it.”

Crowley looked into his eyes and Aziraphale felt a few tears of joy brim to the surface. Crowley leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “There is nothing I could want more out of life than this right here. It’s me who should be thanking you.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes and reveled in the comfort his family brought him. It had been a long time, getting here, having one. And even though things were absolutely perfect, Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel that perhaps, just maybe, one more body might make it just that extra bit more special.


	10. Family of Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Babies, all of them 😭😭😭 And I love them so much ❤❤❤

Aziraphale absentmindedly ran a dusting cloth over his books, looking to the side as he thought. “Do you suppose she’ll need to go to school?”

Crowley’s head popped up from where he had been sitting at Aziraphale’s desk. “Huh?”

“Beez, darling. Do you think we should send her to school?”

“School?” Crowley leaned back in the chair, placing his feet up on the desk. Aziraphale gave him a warning look and he dropped them again. “Bit early for that, no?”

“I wouldn’t say that. If we want her to get into a good school, we have to start planning today.”

Crowley shrugged. “Planning for school? Don’t you just, I dunno, send them off and there they go?”

“You don’t just send them off, dear. You have to prepare. Make connections. There’s a whole application process.”

Crowley crossed his arms and studied Aziraphale. “You were hanging out with book girl again, weren’t you?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, his dusting abandoned. “Her name is Anathema, dear. And she asked me for some help preparing the triplet’s application to preschool.”

Crowley scoffed. “Application to school. Who’s heard of such a thing? Here kids, we’re gonna make ya sit in a cramped old room for six hours and nag at your, and oh, by the way, we’re gonna make your parents lose their damn minds trying to get ya there.”

Aziraphale shook his head, giving Crowley a look. He opened his mouth to say something, but a thump from above cut him off. The two of them turned their attention to the ceiling, listening intently for anything else. 

“That wasn’t from Beez’s room,” Aziraphale said. “Right?”

Crowley shook his head. “No, that was from the attic.”

“Oh dear. You don’t suppose we have bats or something?”

Crowley gave him a look. “Bats?”

Aziraphale shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. We should go check.”

“Right.” Crowley pushed himself up from the chair and puffed out his chest. “I’ll handle this.”

Aziraphale chuckled and followed him out of the study and up to the hall. “Do be careful, dear,” he said, watching as Crowley pulled down the stairs to the attic. “Wild animals have been known to attack when confronted.”

“There’s no wild animal in the world that could stop me, angel.”

Aziraphale wasn’t too sure of that, so he followed Crowley up the steps, just to be sure he was safe. 

They didn’t have too much in the attic, just a bunch of their older possessions that they didn’t have a space for, or that they switched out with others with the seasons. But the few boxes they did have had been rearranged, creating a sort of fortification in the back corner. 

“Did you arrange the boxes?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley shook his head. “Thought you did.”

They shared a look and crept forward. There was a shuffle, and out of the corner of their eyes, a shoe disappeared behind a box. 

“Alright,” Aziraphale said. He placed his hands on his hips. “Come on out.”

There was a moment of hesitation, then Warlock crawled into the open. He grimaced as he looked up at them, then got to his feet, looking away. 

“Why are you in our attic?” Crowley asked.

Warlock shrugged and looked at the space around them. “Seemed like some good real estate.”

“It’s not for sale,” Crowley told him.

“How was I to know?”

Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley’s arm, urging him to stop the nonsense. “Warlock, you were supposed to have gone home three hours ago. It’s a school night.”

Warlock looked over his shoulder. “I, uh, forgot my homework.”

“In the attic?” Aziraphale asked.

“Yeah...”

Crowley stepped forward and leaned over, studying the are behind the wall of boxes. “Doing a report on squatters, are you?”

Aziraphale also peeked over and then gasped softly, mainly at the mess of all the old food wrappers and soda cans. 

“I was gonna clean up,” Warlock mumbled. “But you guys never leave.”

“How long have you been up here?” Aziraphale asked. 

“‘Bout a week.”

Aziraphale took a steadying breath. “Alright. Let’s get out of the attic and discuss this.”

Aziraphale led the other two down to the kitchen, taking a brief peek in Beez’s room to make sure she was still asleep. Happy with her slumber, Aziraphale sat at the kitchen table with Crowley and Warlock.

“I’d start talking, if I were you,” Aziraphale said. Some tea had been waiting for them and he sipped at his cup. 

Warlock sat hunched in his seat, starting at his cup. He shrugged. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Let’s start with why you’ve been sleeping in our attic for the last week.” Aziraphale set his cup down and studied Warlock. He fidgeted, his attention bouncing around the room. 

“I dunno. Better than sleeping outside, I guess.”

“And why aren’t you sleeping back at your home?”

Warlock fixed Aziraphale with a hard gaze. “I am sleeping at home.”

Crowley shifted in his seat and Aziraphale glanced at him. He, too, was busy spending his time looking everywhere but at the other two.

“Warlock, dear-”

“No!” Warlock sat up straight. “I want to live here!”

“You can’t,” Aziraphale whispered. “Your family-”

“You’re my family!” Warlock pushed up from the table, hands braced on it, staring down at Aziraphale. “Family knows when you leave, and knows where you’re supposed to be.”

“I’m sure they-”

“I haven’t been there for a week! And no one’s noticed. I never told them I was going anywhere. I went to school last Monday and never went back. No one’s noticed, or tried to call, or went looking for me. They don’t _care_!”

Aziraphale looked over at Crowley. He was still in his seat, a hand holding one arm close to his body as he stared at the floor. Looking back at Warlock, Aziraphale could see so much of Crowley in him, it was a little unnerving. 

“Please,” Warlock said, the harshness of his stare and voice melting away. “I want to stay with you. I want a real family.”

Aziraphale sighed, realizing there would be no help from Crowley. “It’s late,” he said. “And you have school tomorrow. You can sleep here tonight, on the couch. And we can discuss this more tomorrow.”

Warlock frowned. “I’m not going back there,” he declared. “If you don’t want me, then I’ll find somewhere else to go.” He turned and stormed out of the room. 

Worried he was going to just run away, Aziraphale got up to chase after him. But Warlock was settling down on the couch with some pillows and blankets. Crowley finally moved, looking up at Aziraphale with wide eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” Aziraphale said. He took Crowley’s hand and led him up to their room, safely out of earshot of Warlock. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, his voice soft and faint. He held Aziraphale’s hands and looked at him with those big, wide eyes. “We have to let him stay.”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale hated seeing his love so distressed. “Raising a teenager is nothing like raising a toddler. We aren’t equipped for it.”

“We have to be, Aziraphale. He needs us.”

Crowley wasn’t entirely wrong. But…

“My dearest.” Aziraphale took a hand out of Crowley’s and placed it on his cheek. “I love you. But I just don’t think that _you_ can handle this.”

Crowley’s eyebrows furrowed, a slight anger creeping in at his worry. “What are you talking about?”

“Be honest with yourself, darling. You’re not going to be able to properly parent him.”

Crowley stepped away, Aziraphale’s hand dropping from his face but the other still in his hand. “I won’t be able to parent him? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I know how you are, dear. Especially with him. You won’t be able to punish him if he comes home late one night. You won’t make sure he does his homework every day, or ensure that he’s not watching too much t.v.”

Crowley scowled. “So what?”

Aziraphale tilted his head, giving Crowley his best sad-look. “So who does that responsibility fall to, hm?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Aziraphale. He’s sixteen. He doesn’t even need all that stuff.”

“You’re wrong.” Aziraphale stepped up to Crowley and took his face in both hands. “He needs that now more than ever.”

“He needs to be here. With us.”

“Then I need you to promise me I won’t be alone in this.”

Crowley looked away for a moment, then back at Aziraphale. “You’ll never be alone as long as I live.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I can be tough on him.”

“Not tough, dear. Just fair.”

“Right, right.” Crowley opened his eyes with a smirk. “Whatever you say, angel.”

Aziraphale huffed and smiled, kissing Crowley softly. 

-

“Good morning, dear,” Aziraphale said, gently running a hand over Warlock’s head. Warlock’s eyes blinked open, blinking at him in the early morning light. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

Warlock mumbled and closed his eyes again, rolling over and burrowing under his blanket. Aziraphale smiled and returned to the kitchen, taking the blanket with him, much to Warlock’s vocal dismay.

Crowley was sitting with Beez in his lap, holding her as she carefully coordinated her fingers to pick up bits of cereal off the table. She was really growing up quite quickly. Aziraphale finished making up his eggs and toast, setting the table just as Warlock shuffled in, rubbing at his tired eyes. 

“Mornin’,” Crowley said. Beez babbled in his lap.

“So?” Warlock asked. He stood next to his chair, glancing at his food. “Am I staying here or hitting the road?”

Aziraphale gave him a soft smile. “You’re staying here.” Warlock grinned and sat down, shoveling food into his mouth. 

“Of course there are some rules to follow,” Aziraphale said, taking his own seat.

“Of course,” Warlock said, nearly rolling his eyes, but catching himself.

“You are to do your homework every night,” Aziraphale warned. “And if you lie about not having any you will be grounded.”

Warlock shrugged. “Yeah, alright.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, who startled a little. “Oh, yeah. And, uh, call us if you’re going anywhere after school.”

Warlock nodded, a little smile on his face. “Yep.”

“Home by nine,” Aziraphale continued.

“Nine?” Warlock asked. Aziraphale gave him a look and he gulped. “Is a perfectly reasonable hour to be home by.”

“Bed by ten,” Crowley half-muttered.

“Ten? Seriously?” Warlock looked between the two of them, but Crowley avoided eye contact and Aziraphale was unflinching in his. 

Warlock deflated into his seat and poked at the eggs on his plate. “Let me guess? No wild parties either?”

“Not unless we’re invited,” Crowley said. Aziraphale just chuckled and shook his head. 

Warlock frowned. “Whatever.”

“And sit up straight at the table,” Aziraphale said. “A foul mood is no reason for bad manners.”

Warlock sighed and sat up a bit, not perfectly straight, but good enough for Aziraphale.

“Regret it yet?” Crowley asked with a laugh.

Warlock looked at the three of them and his frown lifted a bit. “Not yet,” he said. “But give it time. I’ll be slamming my door and saying I hate you in no time.”

Crowley laughed, even though that was a very real fear and already he could feel the promise he had made to Aziraphale slipping a bit. But he had to hold onto it. He couldn’t let Aziraphale down. 

“Dada!” Beez said, reaching over to Aziraphale. He took her into his lap with a wide smile full of joy.

“And hey,” Warlock said. “Now you’ll have a built in babysitter.”

Beez clapped her hands and gargled some more. Crowley laughed. Aziraphale sat there and watched his family enjoy their breakfast, knowing that there would be many more such mornings to come.


End file.
